


Nervous

by therapybegins



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2270520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therapybegins/pseuds/therapybegins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard can't talk. He's mute, claustrophobic and completely obsessed with Frank.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twice

**Author's Note:**

> For Poonam,  
> For always listening,  
> For all the shared laughs,  
> And for always being there for me.

The boy in the corner of the room was suffocating. Not physically, of course, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His skin crawled in anticipation for the event to be over. He didn’t know why he let his brother convince him that this was a good idea. Of course it wasn’t a good idea- this was a social event. He didn’t do social events.

Social events were overrated.

There was always booze. There were always drunk teenagers. There was always loud music. There were always people dancing in a swarming mass of bodies, and there was always, always, Frank.

The boy knew that he should get over it. Frank was that boy that everybody liked. He was smart, funny and cute. He was small and all the girls loved him. All the jocks hated him, but they secretly adored him. They were just jealous. Frank was loved by all. Why would he want to talk to the antisocial nerd who couldn’t even speak?

Frank was short, and Gerard could totally dig it, in fact he did. Frank played guitar, and Gerard worshipped him for it. He always wished to learn how to, but he was pathetically horrible at it. Instead he drew pictures of Frank playing. Frank was funny. He told jokes on the spot, made sarcastic remarks, and was a wise ass. Gerard ate it all up. Frank had tattoos and piercings, which Gerard thought completely hot, except for the part that dealt with needles. Frank was loud, which Gerard cringed about at first, but he quickly grew to enjoy after a time.

Frank was amazing; Gerard just couldn’t talk to him. He settled for drawing Frank in his notebook. Like hundreds of pictures. They always started out as doodles, but when he looked down and actually noticed what he was drawing, it was Frank. Happy Frank playing with a puppy at a park. Sad Vampire Frank looking down at his toes. Peaceful Frank playing his guitar on a porch step.

But back to the situation at hand.

Gerard was in the corner of the living room, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He could feel the vibrations from the music through the wall and it made his heartbeat thump loudly in his ears. He felt his chest tighten as more people filled the tattered room. Red solo cups littered the floor and the couch was moved to the side of the room. Two girls were making out heavily on it.

A petite girl, with pretty blue eyes and incredibly little clothing, made her way to Gerard. His throat constricted with panic and his eyes darted around. This was not good. He didn’t like girls. Girls scared him. Girls were evil. He pissed one off before and rumors spread and within minutes the entire school believed he was a scumbag who did cocaine and attempted to rape the girl. He was lucky the cops weren’t involved.

He was also tormented by the jocks and avoided by every girl for the rest of the school year.

Gerard didn’t like girls.

He tried to take deep breathes and look calmly for an escape route, but he only ended up looking like he was going to throw up. She didn’t notice at first, her gaze predatory and lustful. Fortunately for him, once she did notice, the expression he made was enough to make the wasted girl recoil and shoot him a disgusted look. She turned around and looked for someone else.

Gerard sighed deeply, relieved to have avoided an unwanted and potentially awkward situation. However, he needed to get out of the room. He needed air. He needed fresh air. He needed a smoke.

He scrambled to his feet quickly and rushed to the back of the house, weaving through sweaty bodies, the odor of vomit and beer clinging to his nostrils. He gagged, claustrophobia sinking into his bones. People were too close. This was such a bad idea. Why did he decide to come?

Because you knew Frank was going to be here…

Shut up! Gerard yelled at himself silently, finally reaching the back door. He pushed the door open and gasped as the cold air bit his lungs.

He was thankful that whoever’s house this was didn’t have much of a back yard. It was puny, maybe a total of twenty square feet. He was also thankful that it was November. It was freezing outside so everyone was inside. He was alone. At last. No one could bother him.

Gerard felt his hand tremble and his skin itched. He quickly searched his pockets for his smokes. Once he finally found them in his back pocket, he wished he had kept them somewhere else. Most were smashed beyond use and he couldn’t afford to buy more until the next week. He sighed, even more miserable, and took out one of the four smoke-able cigarettes. He lit it quickly and stuck it in his mouth.

His nerves instantly calmed. He was outside, by himself on a cold night in his favorite Green Day hoodie, and he was smoking. At that moment, he was perfectly fine. He could breathe again. Most of the noise from inside was muffled.

I need to go home, Gerard thought, but he knew it wasn’t going to happen for a while. Mikey wasn’t going to be finished partying for at least four more hours, and Gerard was his sober ride home. Gerard considered just leaving, but his mom would have his ass for leaving Mikey at someone’s house. Her youngest son who was a saint. Saint my ass. Gerard let out a silent chuckle and took a drag. Might as well draw since I have all this free time.

Gerard sat down against the brick house wall.

He took out his sketch book, the majority of the drawings inside of Frank, and purposely set out to not draw Frank. It was hard, he had to admit. He had been trying to perfect one of Frank’s many tattoos, and his fingers itched to draw the scorpion on his neck. However, he bit his tongue and drew a spider instead. Spiders were easy to draw and a perfect distraction. He made the eyes narrowed into slits, angled with a forty-five degree arch. The legs were long and dangly and the body was fat. He made the spider be in the middle of making its web. Then he added a vampire bat in the corner, little teeth poking out. The eyes were more human for the bat, though.

He realized that they were Frank’s.

Gerard sighed in frustration. He really needed to rid himself of this obsession. It wasn’t healthy, and God only knew he needed to add another thing to his long list of unhealthy problems.

Gerard was in the middle of lighting a second cigarette, despite his shortage, when he heard loud music again. His head snapped up towards the door, briefly hoping that it would be Mikey. Regrettably for him, it was Frank.

Shit.

Gerard quickly snapped his notebook shut and stuffed it into his hoodie, terrified that Frank would be disgusted with him. He didn’t want to lose all chances of having any sort of relationship with Frank. He at least wanted to be friends.

Gerard observed Frank as he came stumbling out. His expression was angry and he let out a frustrated cry. He kicked at the ground, dust flying up. Gerard didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t decide if he should go back into the crowded house or shrink into the shadows. He settled for the latter. Shrinking into shadows was his specialty.

Mikey never understood it. Gerard, while shorter than the average male, was not small. He wasn’t fat, either, but he was noticeable. He had this air about him that screamed ‘don’t touch me’ and that was always a giant red exclamation mark that everyone could see. So Mikey couldn’t see how Gerard could just disappear, but Gerard was very good at it. And the dark was the perfect ally.

Frank let out the most creative stream of swears Gerard ever heard, varying between Italian and English. Gerard’s Italian wasn’t the best, but years of listening to his family allowed him to understand the gist of what Frank was conveying. Once Frank was out of breathe, he stopped swearing and searched for his cigarettes. “Fucking cigarettes,” he muttered. “I left them at home. Fuck!”

Gerard observed, not making a sound. He could offer Frank his cigarette, but there wasn’t really a way for him to do so. He couldn’t say anything to get his attention. Instead, he shrugged and continued to smoke his own, not fully aware that smoking could possibly attract attention.

Frank was instantly embarrassed when he smelled the smoke. He realized that there was a second person outside and he just had a temper tantrum in front of unknown person. His eyes scanned the back yard, searching for the source of the smoke. His eyes passed over Gerard twice before he realized that what he thought was a black trash bag was actually a person.

“Hello,” he said, taking a couple steps towards Gerard. “Mind if I bum a smoke?”

Gerard did mind, but it was Frank, and Frank could have the rest of Gerard’s cigarettes for the rest of his life if he wanted them. Gerard took out one and handed it over. His last cigarette would just have to last him for the next four days.

“Thanks, man. I owe you one. So what are you doing out here? Its freezing,” Frank said. Gerard forgot that he was a chatty person.

Gerard nervously started to convey that he didn’t like crowds through sign language, but when he saw Frank’s confused expression, he sighed. Fuck.

“Oh! You’re Mikey’s brother!” Frank exclaimed. “It’s Gerard, right?”

Gerard beamed. No one had ever remembered his name right before like how Frank just did. Frank sat down next to Gerard. He smelled of beer, but more like someone spilled it on him than him actually drinking it.

Gerard didn’t like Frank so close to him.

His skin crawled with the closeness. The only person he ever let this close was Mikey. He forgot that Frank was also very physical. He was always jumping onto Bob’s back and standing annoyingly close to Ray. Gerard tried to push the nagging feeling away. It was Frank. He wanted Frank.

Biting his lip, Gerard pulled out his notebook. He was careful to open it to a relatively blank page. The only sketch on it was of a grumpy Tweety Bird. ‘I don’t like crowds’, Gerard wrote and showed it to Frank.

Frank giggled, “Then why did you come here?”

Gerard blushed. ‘Mikey made me.’

“Ah, that fucker is excellent at making people do shit they don’t wanna do. I don’t get how he does it man,” Frank sighed, shaking his head and lighting the smoke. Gerard only nodded, putting his own out in the dirt. “Nice Tweety Bird.”

Gerard blushed again. ‘I was bored.’

“Do you like to draw?” Gerard nodded again. “I bet you’re great!” Frank said brightly. “What else do you like to do?”

‘Read comics, watch movies, paint.’

“What’s your favorite superhero?”

‘Doom Patrol is my favorite superhero team. Yours?’

“Batman,” Frank grinned. “Can’t help it, man. He’s awesome. And he fights the best villains. No one can ever beat the Joker. He’s fucking amazing. And then there’s Bane. I swear I’m in love with Bane.” He giggled again and Gerard flashed a smile. “You should smile more. It suits you.” Gerard blushed.

‘What do you like to do?’

“Pretty much play any instrument I can get a hold of, read comics, books, watch movies, party. The usual, I guess,” he shrugged, scooting a bit closer to Gerard. Gerard’s eye twitched. “Harry Potter is my favorite.” Frank was too close, too close. It terrified him, but he loved it. “Can I see your drawings?” he asked, but didn’t wait for Gerard to comply. He took the notebook and flipped to the front.

Gerard couldn't do a damn thing. The location of where Frank was holding his sketch book was a location that would be awkward to reach to. He settled for bringing his hands to his face and peek through his fingers. This is bad, this is bad, he chanted to himself over and over again.

The first couple of sketches were fine. One was of his mother cooking pancakes on a Sunday morning before church. Another was of Mikey destroying Ray at videogames. A third was of his mom and dad laughing at something Mikey had said. However, the fourth was of Frank. The fifth was of Frank. The sixth, seventh and eighth were of Frank. Basically, the rest were a form of Frank.

Gerard was going to be sick.

He wanted the darkness to swallow him whole and him vanish into nothing. He wanted the house to fall on him so he could die. He wanted the notebook to have never existed. He wanted to cease to exist. It would be so much better than to face Frank’s horrified expression.

“These are amazing, Gerard,” Frank breathed. He wasn’t freaked out at the amount of pictures of him in the stranger’s sketchbook. Okay, a little, but he could see why Gerard chose to draw him. He didn’t want to sound narcissistic, but the way Gerard drew him was breathtaking. He had no idea he could look so beautiful. He also knew that this was how Gerard saw him.

Gerard peeked through his fingers and explored Frank’s expression. He didn’t look angry. Or disgusted. Frank surfed through the rest slowly. Gerard fidgeted, biting his nails. “Those are wonderful, dude. You should make a living out of it.”

Gerard smiled, or tried to at least, but his nerves caused it to appear more like a grimace.

“No, I mean it,” Frank said earnestly, as if it was extremely important to him that Gerard made a living off of his art. “Here,” he said quietly, handing the book back. “Why me, though?”

Gerard’s face flushed scarlet. ‘Because you’re beautiful?’

“I’ve been called many things, but beautiful has never been one of them. It’s usually ‘you’re a little shit’ or ‘you’re a pain in the ass’,” he grinned. Gerard returned the smile.

‘Well, you’re those too.’

Frank let out a full blown laugh, a mixture of giggles and a high pitched squeal. He slapped his knee, startling Gerard, and bent over his folded legs. He laughed for a good minute, not entirely sure why he thought it was so funny, but he couldn’t help himself. When he finally gained control over himself, he said, “I like you, Gerard.”

‘I like you too, Frank.’ Gerard hoped that Frank wouldn’t get the real meaning. Frank smiled. He scooted closer, subtly leaning in, and before Gerard knew it, they were kissing. Gerard felt panic rising in his chest, but this is what he wanted. He wanted Frank so much it hurt, so he shoved aside his fears and kissed back.

Frank had been struggling with this for a while. Not necessarily with Gerard, but with any guy. He had found himself attracted to guys before, only a certain type, though. They were usually more feminine males, but he could never quite find one that was interested in him. And they usually wore too much make up. He never found guys in female clothing hot, and Gerard was perfect. He only wore a little eyeliner, a black hoodie, and black skinny jeans. Gerard was perfect in the way that only his body structure was feminine, his face soft and body curvy. Gerard turned Frank on.

Gerard could feel Frank’s arousal, too, and it scared him. However, it also excited him. He never thought that Frank would look twice at him.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Frank whispered. Gerard nodded fervently and they both scrambled to their feet. They stumbled through the house, holding hands, and then to what Gerard guessed was Frank’s car. Gerard only hesitated for a moment. His brother was going to kill him in the morning.

He decided it was worth it.

 

Frank drove them to what Gerard could only assume was his house. It was a cute, medium-sized house with a white picket fence. It gave off a certain kind of warmth that Gerard liked, though the lights were out. He made sure to check what street they were on, though, just to appease his paranoia.

They made out the entire way into the house and up the stairs, tripping over each others’ feet and clothing as they lost them. It wasn’t until both were fully naked that Gerard realized what he was doing and that he had no idea how any of it worked.

It was his first time.

Frank seemed to sense Gerard’s nervousness because he started to whisper assurances and sweet nothings. He took it slow, kissing Gerard all over and Gerard tried his best to return the gesture. He knew that it felt good, really, really good, but the panic was starting to outweigh the sensations. “Hey, Gerard, we can stop if you want to. It’s alright,” Frank said, looking into his eyes. Gerard knew he was dead serious. He didn’t realize that he was afraid of being pressured into this until after Frank spoke those words. He felt much better after that and kissed Frank.

Frank smiled and continued his way down Gerard’s torso.

All Gerard knew was that this was the best night of his life.


	2. Unsent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after and a little bit of sass.

Gerard woke to the smell of coffee. He was warm all over and euphoria was in his veins. He opened his eyes. Alarm rushed through his system when he realized that he wasn’t in his room, but he quickly remembered the events of the previous night. He was in Frank’s room. He sat up, taking in how Frank worked. His room was unusually clean for a teenager, only a small pile of laundry in one corner and a couple comic books on the floor. He had a shelf that went from the floor to the ceiling completely filled with books and there were a couple Batman and Harry Potter posters on the wall. The rest of the walls were plastered with band concerts and picture of Pencey Prep.

Gerard decided that he liked Frank’s room.

“Hey,” Frank said from the doorway. Gerard’s head snapped towards him and he was suddenly conscience of his naked state. “I brought you coffee.” Gerard beamed at Frank, making grabby hands at him. Frank giggled, walking towards him and handing him the steaming mug. Gerard made the universal signal for thank you and Frank smiled, sitting down next to him. They drank their coffees in silence, just enjoying each others’ company.

Gerard drank his quickly, barely noticing the scalding liquid burning his throat. He liked the silence that was between the two- it wasn’t awkward. However, he didn’t like the fact that he was still nude. Frank was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. All Gerard was wearing was a blanket loosely around his waist. He saw his clothes folded neatly in a pile on Frank’s desk and he grinned.

Frank noticed. “Yeah… I’m a bit of a neat freak.” He blushed, setting his cup down and walking to his desk. He picked up the stack and handed the clothes to Gerard. “Here, I can leave if you want to get dressed.” Gerard nodded and Frank left the room. Frank secretly thought it silly for him to leave his room, especially with what happened last night, but he sensed that Gerard was uncomfortable with him seeing him naked.

Gerard rushed to dress himself as soon as the door shut. He felt a jabbing pain between his legs and his face became tomato red. He forgot he had bottomed.

He dressed slowly.

He felt awkward about kicking Frank out of his own room. He checked his phone, and had a sharp intake of breath when he saw the amount of texts he missed. All were from Mikey, wondering where the fuck he had gone without informing him. Gerard felt guilty. He knew he should have told someone, but he knew that Mikey hadn’t told anyone yet. I’m at Frank’s, he typed quickly, but refrained from hitting the send button. He didn’t know why.

Snapping his cell shut, Gerard picked up his coffee mug and padded to the door and opened it. Frank was nowhere in sight. Frowning, he made his way down the stairs. He noticed that his sketchbook wasn’t on his pile of clothes. He only hoped that Frank had it and that it wasn’t at the stranger’s house from last night.

He made his was down the stairs leisurely to avoid extra discomfort, observing the clean house. It almost looked like one out of a magazine, but it also looked lived in. It smelled of apple pie. He found Frank curled up on the couch, a CD playing softly, and he was looking at the pictures again. Gerard sighed in relief. His drawings were here.

“You’re really good at art, Gerard,” Frank said, flipping the page. Gerard lurched forward, shocked that Frank knew he was there. He didn’t make a noise. He had moved like a ghost down the stairs. Then he noticed the television and how he could see Frank’s front half clearly. He can probably see me.

Gerard shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He took a few steps until he reached the couch, then he stood there, indecisive on what he should do. Should I sit down next to Frank? Or does he want me to leave? Should I ask him to give me a lift home?

“You know…” Frank started slowly, taking a sip of his coffee. “I don’t bite. Well, too hard. You seemed to like it last night.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Gerard’s face flamed, his throat tightening and he made a choking noise. “Hey, hey, Gerard! It’s alright, okay?” Frank said, hopping onto his feet and dashing over. He grabbed Gerard’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay.”

Gerard shook his head, trying to convey that he wasn’t panicking for once. That he was just embarrassed. He moved to grab his sketchbook, pulling out his pencil as he did. He wrote hurriedly in his scratchy handwriting. I wasn’t panicking.

“Oh,” Frank said. “Oh!” His worried expression formed into a smirk. “Did you enjoy last night, Gerard?” Frank whispered, coming in close and placing his hands on the older boy’s hips. He pulled Gerard towards him, their lips centimeters apart. “I think you did.” Gerard nodded, swallowing hard. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do with his hands and Frank was too close again. His stomach clenched, the need to hurl rising in his throat. He did enjoy the previous night, but he still didn’t like the contact, no matter how much he wanted it. He pushed his feelings aside, though, and decided to cup Frank’s face with his hands.

Tentatively, Gerard leaned down, his eyes flickering from Frank’s hazel orbs to his parted lips. Frank smiled and went onto his tippy-toes, closing the ever shrinking gap between the two.

It was a nice kiss, Gerard had to admit. Frank was really good at it, knowing just where to nudge, just where to nip. It made Gerard acutely aware of just how inexperienced he really was.

Gerard was grateful when the phone rang.

Frank let out an irritated chuckle, shaking his head as he broke the kiss. “I’ve gotta get that. It’s probably my mom.” Gerard nodded, pulling back and sitting down on the couch. He snatched his sketchbook quickly and stuffed it into the pocket of his hoodie. He liked the bigger pockets so he always bought his jackets a size or two too big.

He put his pencil in the binding of the notebook, peering into his pocket as he did so. He was too lazy to pull the sketchbook out again.

“Oh. Mikey. Hi,” Frank said, a look of surprise on his face, like he couldn’t believe that his best friend had his phone number. Gerard started to pay attention. “Oh, he’s here. Don’t worry.” Frank waited a couple of seconds before talking again. “I found him outside last night in the backyard of Ryan’s place. Gerard said that he doesn’t like crowds so I took him to my place. I’m sure he didn’t mean to scare the shit out of you. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to do that purposely.”

Gerard’s eye twitched and he started to fidget, guilt gnawing at his insides. He knew he should have told Mikey, or his mom, at least. And he should have sent that text. Now Mikey and his mom were going to be pissed. His dad would say to be mindful of others, sigh, and then move on to a different subject. His mom would harp on him about being irresponsible and explain the importance of him informing them of his location because of his condition, like he didn’t already know. Mikey, however, wouldn’t say a thing about him being irresponsible, but would be genuinely curious about what he up to, not to be annoying, but because he was his brother.

“No, no, man, I’ll bring him over. It’s no big deal. He’s a really cool dude,” Frank assured Mikey, nodding his head even though the recipient couldn’t see.

Gerard smirked. Frank was so adorable.

“Okay, okay, geez, man, I’ll make sure to leave your brother with my thugs,” Frank said seriously, but his lip twitched upwards. “Okay, Mikey! He’ll be home within the hour!” Frank exclaimed, hanging up. “Jesus Christ. So, you ready to go home, or do you want to eat breakfast first?”

Gerard shrugged. He wasn’t hungry and he kind of wanted to go home. As much as he liked Frank, he still didn’t know what to do with someone he didn’t hang around twenty-four seven and just had sex with. Gerard wanted to be in his room, alone.

“I already ate, so I guess I’ll take you home,” Frank said, suddenly unsure of himself. He wanted Gerard to say something, but he knew that Gerard was unable. He didn’t know why Gerard couldn’t talk, though, and he wanted to, he just didn’t know how to ask. He also felt awkward about last night’s events. He had never had a one night stand at his own house.

Gerard stood up, yawning. He slipped on his Chuck Taylors, not even bothering to tie the laces. He stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and waited by the door. He wasn’t right by the door, but he was close. He was starting to feel like he was being watched, like he was an experiment, and he didn’t like it. The silence he was in was becoming close to unbearable.

Frank felt it too, but said nothing. He slipped on his own Chucks and a sweatshirt off the coat rack. Then he grabbed the car keys and opened the door. Frank was puzzled over the sudden uneasiness between the two. It didn’t make sense. Five minutes beforehand both were flirting and about to make out, and now it felt like Gerard thought he had the plague.

That wasn’t how most of his one night stands went.

Frank had always been the first one to break it off, but usually flirted and fooled around before he left. He had never been in a situation where the opposite person enjoyed the evening and then wanted to leave as soon as he could.

Gerard, though uncomfortable, thought that he should break the tension. He pulled out his sketchpad and wrote, taking his time to phrase his question correctly and make sure his hand writing was legible. He couldn’t quite remember how it was originally said. Then waited to show Frank when they reached a stop light. He tapped on Frank’s shoulder, despite the fact that the younger boy had been stealing glances at him every two seconds. Then he held the notebook up and smirked.

‘What... is the air-speed velocity of a swallow?’

Frank giggled, caught off guard by the inquiry. “‘What do you mean? An African or European swallow?’” Frank grinned, darting his eyes back to the road as the light turned green. Gerard smiled, pleased with himself for being able to make the tension dissipate for once. He put the notebook back in his lap and wrote his reply.

‘I… I don’t know that…’ Gerard bit his lip and showed Frankie again.

Frank, still grinning, mock screamed. Shaking his head, he caused the car to swerve a bit. They were lucky they were on a neighborhood road.

Gerard grinned; revealing his pearly whites in what Frank considered an adorable smile. Adorable smiles were hard to come by in people other than little kids.

Regaining control over the car, Frank pulled into the Way’s driveway. “Well, we’re here!” he said, smiling brightly. Gerard arched an eyebrow at Frank.

‘Really? I thought we were in Antarctica.’

Frank shot him a dry look, causing Gerard to giggle. His shoulders shook and he leaned forward a bit. Gerard’s eyes twinkled, the gold standing out more than usual against the green.

Mikey peeked through the curtains from the living room, his lips quirking up when he saw Gerard’s expression. He had rarely seen his brother look so happy and… not anxious. His eyebrows creased with worry after that thought. What if Frank disappoints Gerard? That could be disastrous. Frank, well, it’s Frank. He probably doesn’t even realize what he’s done.

He watched as they got out of the car, Frank talking and Gerard smirking. Gerard still walked awkwardly, though, so that was familiar. He had his hands fisted and stuck in his back pockets. His head was tilted to his right and dipped a tad downwards. His shoulders were scrunched up too.

Mikey closed the curtain and opened the door. “Hi Frank. Feeling better, Gee?” he asked, but he was still watching Frank. Gerard nodded, still smiling, and slipped past Mikey.

“What’s up, Mikey? Party too hard last night?” Frank grinned; taking note of his friend’s disheveled state. He walked into the house, taking his usual seat on the sofa.

“Something like that,” Mikey muttered, shutting the door and grabbing the controls to the Xbox. He tossed one to Frank and started the machine up. He put Halo in, not bothering to ask Frank for his preference. He didn’t feel like playing Mario Kart.

“Your brother is really cool, by the way, and hilarious. He’s so… what’s the word? Sarcastic? No… Sassy! He’s so sassy. Even though he can’t talk,” Frank babbled, selecting his account. Mikey moved to sit on the other side of the couch. “Why didn’t you ever introduce me to him? And why have I never seen him here before?”

“Gerard doesn’t like to meet people. He’s always holed up in his room,” Mikey replied bluntly, killing off Frank.

“Hey!” Frank complained, reviving in a different location. He was out in the open and had no idea where Mikey was. Well, until Mikey started shooting at him. He shot back, and backed away until he found a tank. He grinned. He loved the tank. “Die, fucker!”

“Shit,” Mikey muttered, running back and jumping off the side of the building. He landed on the side of a jeep, almost falling off and dying. Frank started to drive in his direction, shooting at random. Suddenly, a balled up piece of paper hit Mikey in the head. He pause the game, looking up to see Gerard staring expectantly at him. He opened the paper.

‘Let me play.’

Frank grinned. “You know where the extra controller is," he said dully. Frank rolled his eyes and Gerard shrugged, and then wrote down something else.

‘You know I’m not good with these things.’

Mikey sighed, getting up from the couch. “No, he can have mine,” Frank cut in. “I have to leave anyways. Mom will want to know where I am and she said I have to help her with something.” He stood up, handing Gerard the controller. “I’ll see you guys later,” he called over his shoulder, and he was gone.

Mikey’s eyes darted to Gerard, noticing his crestfallen posture. He was acting less uptight than usual and now, after Frank left, he back to his normal habits. He was biting his nails, shrinking back into the kitchen to grab coffee. His slender fingers were wrapped delicately around his mug, hooked around the handle. Mikey knew Gerard liked Frank- it was painfully obvious, really- but Gerard never even interacted with Frank until yesterday. Then it clicked. “You got laid.”

Gerard froze in his spot. His face flushed instantly, creeping down into his neck. His mouth was hung open and his eyes were comically wide, practically bugging out of his skull. He does he know these things?! Gerard thought. Is he mad? Oh God…

Mikey saw the panic rising in his eyes and said quickly, “I’m not mad, Gee, just… be careful.”

Gerard calmed down at his words, but was confused. Frank didn’t seem like the kind of guy to leave people hanging.


	3. Only a Little Stupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartbreak and a new friend.

The day was Tuesday- Gerard hated Tuesdays. Tuesdays were worse than Mondays, because it meant that school was actually happening and that Monday wasn’t a horrible dream. And Tuesdays were P.E. days. Gerard hated P.E. days, too.

First off, the coach didn’t give two shits of what they did as long as they were in shape and not on drugs. He made his students run for half the period before they went into an actual activity, also something that involved running.

Gerard hated running.

And secondly, the coach didn’t like Gerard. He believed that Gerard didn’t try his hardest in his class and that there was no such thing as someone who wasn’t physically gifted. Gerard really wasn’t physically gifted. He was strong sure, but definitely not as strong as some of the other boys. He could aim… somewhat… and he could sort of be a goalie, but Gerard could not run to save his life. Gym already made him uncomfortable, with the ugly uniform and all, and running made it worse. The shorts were already too short, going three-quarters down the thigh (Gerard swore the coach was a pervert), and running made the shorts ride up (only adding to his suspicions).

Gerard didn’t like wearing that little clothing around anyone, and already having weight-issues only made him more jittery than usual. He still had some of his baby fat, and the yellow and green uniforms made his chubby thighs stand out.

Gerard hoped he could feign sickness before sixth hour.

He tapped his fingers on the desk, anxiously watching the clock tick by the seconds until the teacher would walk in. He arrived to school thirty minutes early as usual to avoid the jocks, and then went to homeroom. He didn’t feel like drawing for once- he was too nervous. Instead, he thought about ways of approaching Frank.

They weren’t in the same circles and he didn’t have the same lunch hour as his brother. He always sat outside drawing, nibbling at his Pringles and ham sandwich. He and Frank did share the same lunch hour, however, so it was possible for him to wait by his locker. It was the one next to Mikey’s, not that he was a stalker. Gerard didn’t like to think of it that way, even if it was partly true.

He just did a lot of staring from afar.

Finally the bell rang, and students came pouring into the room, chatting excitedly to each other about meaningless things, such as football scores and shoes. Gerard ignored them as best as he could, but he still felt the familiar stab of jealousy and anger. He wanted to join them so tremendously that he felt an ache in his chest.

Gerard wished that he could just talk. No one knew why he wasn’t able to make a noise. He had never made a verbal sound in whole life. His laughs, giggles, and cries had always been noiseless. The only thing heard was his breath. The doctors puzzled over it for years, trying to find out what could be causing it. X-Rays and scans showed that everything was as it should be, but no sound escaped his lips. He didn’t have Laryngitis. He wanted to know what it would be like to join in one of those conversations and to not be criticized for the way he communicated. Gerard wanted to talk so badly, just to be able to feel a word roll off his tongue, but he just couldn’t.

He couldn’t even whisper.

Gerard sunk in his chair miserably, allowing himself to feel a moment of self-pity before pulling out his Physics notebook.

He didn’t like Physics class either.

Physics was like math and math was like P.E., save for the clothing. Physics required presentations fifty percent of the time and Gerard had particular trouble with them. They always worked with partners, though, and while it was helpful, it was also quite awkward when he had to stand in front of the class. However, today was going to be okay, Gerard thought, because it was the beginning of a new unit. All he would have to do was take notes.

Gerard tapped his pencil impatiently as the class waited for the teacher to arrive.

Maybe I could catch him after school. Isn’t it on Tuesdays that he has to go home early? Oh, no. That’s Thursdays. Perhaps during passing period. Gerard sighed, chewing on his lip. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice the teacher come in, take attendance, and begin the discussion. However, once equations and concepts were written on the board, he jerked forward slightly and scrambled to take notes.

He was still wrapped up in his thoughts, though, and his note-taking was sloppy. It was no surprise when he jumped. The note hit his hand and a couple students giggled. He looked up and glared, his lips forming into a snarl.

Then he unfolded the note and read it, his heart sinking by the second.

‘Die, faggot. No one wants a lard-ass mute like you around. You’re a freak.’

He didn’t know why he let those kinds of things get to him. He knew that he shouldn’t, but he knew that they were true. He was a faggot. He was fat. He was mute. He was a freak.

 

Gerard didn’t eat lunch. He didn’t have the stomach for it.

The note ruined his morning, so he sat in the library instead, drawing in his sketchbook. It was of a jack-o-lantern smiling wickedly. He drew some shoulders and a spine leading down to the small of a back. He drew sheets, barely covering an ass and one arm. The hair was cropped short and a scorpion was visible on the neck. It was obvious that the person was Frank.

Gerard drew the head sideways to face the other arm, which was spilling off the bed. He worked on the nose, making sure to put in the nose ring. He cast light onto Frank’s body, shading in the shadows; he made Frank’s eye open. The eyelashes allowed for cool shadows.

His leg was bouncing up and down at a consistent pace, effectively irritating a girl that sat nearby him. He glanced up at her annoyed sigh. She was pretty, he had to admit, and if he was straight he’d probably say she was hot. Her hair was in pigtails and black. She wore a red plaid skirt and a rainbow t-shirt. Gerard vaguely remembered Mikey mentioning her to be a bassist.

She had writing on her arms and tattoos littered her body. He had seen her around Frank before, but not too often.

He returned his focus to his drawing, his leg continuing to bounce. She could hear the soft thud of his heel hitting the carpeted floor. “Would you stop that?” she hissed.

Gerard jumped slightly at the sudden noise. He looked over and raised an eyebrow at her. The look he gave her pissed her off, as if he thought she was stupid.

“Yes, I mean you. Stop bouncing your damn leg!” she snapped, her eyes narrowed into a glare. He rolled his eyes, but slumped into his chair. He shrugged and wrote on a new sheet of paper and held it up slightly for her to see.

‘Sorry.’

“Oh, you’re Gerard,” she said, her tone lightening by volumes. Her attitude changed instantly from irritated to friendly in a split second. She picked up her purse and slid into the seat across from him. His eyes followed her movement and he flipped the page of his notebook. He didn’t want her to see how creepy he was being.

“So, I guess the rumors are true about you- you not talking and all,” she said, raising her eyebrows a bit, as if her statement was supposed to be a question that she expected a response to. Gerard hated it when people did that.

Gerard glowered at her.

“Well, of course not all of them. That would be impossible,” she said, ignoring his looks of contempt. “There is no way you choose not to speak and have your vocal cord ripped up at the same time, because that would require you to actually talk. So which is it?” She had a fairly friendly smile on her face, which he found extremely weird. She was just snapping at him moments beforehand. Gerard didn’t like the question she was asking him, either. It was too personal for a stranger to ask. She was direct.

I like her, he thought.

He wrote down on his paper and showed her. ‘I can’t make a single sound, no matter how hard I try.’

“That sucks. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t talk,” she said, clucking her tongue. Gerard didn’t understand why people clucked their tongues.

‘I try not to think about it.’ He gave her a disturbed glance- he felt like he should be uncomfortable, but he wasn’t. He found her presence strangely comforting. It confused the fuck out of him. ‘Who are you?’

“Oh! Wow, I completely forgot. I’m Lindsey, Lindsey Ballato,” she grinned, sticking her hand out for Gerard to take. He took it hesitantly. “I volunteer here because of something that happened when I was still a minor. Luckily, I’m almost done. I’m telling you, I can only stand about five kids in this fucking school. I thought I was done with them when I graduated, but no. Of course not.”

‘You really like to talk.’ She giggled when she read hi note. “Yeah, well, it gets lonely in here. Frank only comes every couple of days when he finishes a book and I’m not really allowed to leave the library. It’s amazing how quickly he reads those things.” Gerard blinked. She spoke rather quickly.

‘Frank Iero?’

“Yeah, you know him? He’s friends with Mikey and Ray, who are also some really cool dudes. I swear Mikey could convince the President to blow up a continent if he wanted to. That kid is good with words. I don’t know how he does it. I promised I’d teach him how to play bass. Do you know him?” she babbled, only just acknowledging Gerard’s nodding and new note. “Oh! Wow, that explains a lot. I didn’t realize that you were his brother. Now I feel stupid. God!”

‘You’re only a little stupid.’ Gerard smirked at her, but winced when she hit him upside the head.

“He rarely talks about you. Whenever I talk to him it’s always about the latest Batman comic. And don’t even get me started on Frank. That kid is always on about The Joker. God, I can never get him to shut up.” She brought her hand up to her face, dragging it down and pulling her cheek with it.

‘They both obsess over Batman. It’s sad. Everyone knows Doom Patrol is the best.’

“Ha! You’re right about that one!” she exclaimed. “I like you, Gerard. You seem like a really cool guy. Hey, what are you drawing?” she asked, and before Gerard could do anything, she snatched the notebook from his hands. She began to surf through it and lurched forward, trying to take it back. “You and Frank would be perfect for each other. You should tell him, and not be a creepy stalker, Gerard,” she said, smirk at him and holding the notebook out of his reach. “And you’re excellent at drawing.” She stood up when he did and flipped the page. “Nice spiders.”

Gerard glared at her, panic rising in his eyes. “Here,” she said, rolling her eyes and handing it back. Gerard wanted to tell her to leave him alone, but for some stupid reason he liked her. So, he settled for just leaving the library and setting a note down on the way out.

‘He does know.’

 

Once out of the library, he waited by the door to his next class until the bell rang. Conveniently, Frank’s locker happened to be right across from that class- Art. He was thankful that Art was next. He had been looking forward to finishing the latest project. The teacher, Mrs. Lawrence, said that he wasn’t allowed to work on anything else until he was done with the self-portrait. He hated self-portraits. They made him feel vulnerable because he couldn’t help but to put how he saw himself onto paper when he did self-portraits.

Today he could finish it quickly.

The bell rang and students flooded the halls. He saw Frank walking down with Carter, Joshua, Lukas and Heath. Those four were jocks that Gerard preferred to avoid, but hopefully Frank would stop them from doing anything to him if need be.

Gerard waved at Frank, smiling slightly. Frank sort of smiled, uncomfortable, and then turned away, as if he didn’t know of Gerard’s existence, and continued his conversation. He laughed obnoxiously, punching Heath’s shoulder lightly. Apparently Heath got laid. Gerard’s face fell. Maybe he didn’t see me? Gerard said to himself hopefully, but disappointment clung to his thoughts.

He ducked into the classroom and did his disappearing trick, wishing to evaporate and ceasing existence.

 

“Be careful with Gerard,” Mikey said in a warning voice to Frank. He threw the football and Frank caught it.

Frank raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“You slept with him, what do you think I mean?” Mikey said, keeping his tone neutral.

“It was just a one-night stand, nothing to worry about,” Frank shrugged, throwing the football back.

“Are you sure he knows that?” Mikey asked, his poker face giving nothing away. He didn’t really want to get in between the two.

Frank understood Mikey’s meaning instantly. Gerard didn’t just like him, he liked him. He wanted something to happen between the two. Frank didn’t know how he missed it. He thought it was an experiment for Gerard too, but he was wrong. “I’ll make sure he does after school,” Frank said, not overly concerned. Gerard will understand, right?

“Be nice,” Mikey replied, moving to catch the ball.

 

“Hey, Frank!” Lindsey called, poking her head out into the hallway.

“Hey, Linds, what’s up?” he asked, turning around to face her.

“I met Gerard today. He seems nice. Seems to really like you. Though, I couldn’t really tell if he liked me much. I think I pissed him off when I stole his notebook. And I felt like such an idiot when I didn’t realize Mikey was his brother. He’s really good at drawing. And when I asked about them, he said that you knew about them. What I want to know, is how he knows about your jack o’ lantern tattoo and how come I didn’t know of it,” Lindsey said, putting her hands on her hips. “And since when did you date?”

“Sorry Linds, I thought I told you about that tattoo, and Gerard and I aren’t dating. I met him this weekend at a party. I’m stopping it now before he thinks that we’re something,” Frank said, his eyes searching over the crowd.

“Frank, you always do that the morning after, not wait a few days, what the hell is wrong with you? He’s a good guy,” Lindsey scolded. She didn’t know why she was suddenly so protective over Gerard, but she knew she was mad at Frank. “This is bad, Frank. He really likes you. Be nice about it.” She turned on her heel and stalked back into the library.

Frank spotted Gerard.

“Hey, can we talk?” Frank asked, jogging up to him. Gerard smiled brightly, practically glowing with happiness. 'I was wrong, earlier was just a mistake', Gerard thought. “Outside?” Gerard nodded and followed him to the front of the school.

Gerard wrote down a note on a piece of paper. ‘Do you want to get coffee tomorrow?’

“I can’t,” Frank said. Gerard bit his lip. ‘Friday?’

“No,” Frank said, the word dragging out. Gerard furrowed his eyebrows. “Look, Gerard, this weekend I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking. You were there and I thought ‘why not’? You look like a girl. That night didn’t mean anything. I’m not gay.”

Gerard blinked.

'I should have seen this coming. God, I’m so stupid'. Glaring, Gerard backed away from Frank, recoiling when Frank reached out. “Gerard, don’t be unreasona-” Frank began, but Gerard wasn’t listening.

His stomach was churning, writhing with venomous snakes that squeezed at his lungs. He gasped shallowly, trying desperately to gather air in his lungs. He saw black a yellow dots before his eyes, and the world began to spin. He walked away as quickly as he could without falling down. His grip on the stair railing had his knuckles white.

He refused to look back, but Frank was already gone.

Gerard went into the driver’s seat of his car and promptly burst into tears.


	4. Quitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic attack.

Mikey was annoyed. He knew that Frank was going to break his brother’s heart. There was nothing he could do about it. Brooding, he stepped out onto the parking lot. He walked towards the Gerard always parked in, but came to a halt when the car wasn’t there. He looked around, thinking that he might have parked somewhere else for once.

There wasn’t a silver Subaru visible anywhere.

He waited the twenty minutes it took for the parking lot to empty before looking around again. His annoyance increased when he realized his brother had left without him.

'Hey, come pick me up', he typed into his cell and pressed ‘send’. He waited for another five minutes before cursing and beginning the walk home. 'Gerard probably fell asleep, the shithead', Mikey thought to himself darkly.

Plugging his ears with his headphones, Mikey listened to his iPod as he trudged his way home. He devised multiple plans of petty revenge in retaliation to Gerard. He decided no mercy in videogames would suffice.

He heard a crack of thunder and looked up. Then it started to rain, the water staining his glasses.

Scowling, Mikey pulled his hood up and picked up the pace. “Damn it, Gee! Where the hell are you?” Mikey muttered. He kicked a rock, making it splash in a fast-forming puddle. The rain progressively fell harder, and Mikey began to run.

When he finally made it home, he growled at the silver vehicle sitting in the driveway. He hurriedly shoved his key into the lock, shivering and teeth chattering. He thought about yelling at Gerard, but decided to do that after a hot shower.

He took his time. Unlike Gerard, Mikey liked to have long showers. They felt nice, especially when he was cold. Actually, it burned at first. Once done, he dressed and headed down to the basement.

Mikey’s ears were assaulted when he opened the door. The stereo was blasting a band that Mikey had difficulty deciphering, which was astounding. He knew just about every band one could think of.

His eyes rested on Gerard’s back. He was about to say something, but he somehow heard something over the noise. He heard a sniffle and took a closer look at Gerard.

Gerard’s shoulders shook violently, the fabric on his shoulders vibrating along with him. He reached for a tissue, his hand trembling, and Mikey understood immediately. He wasn’t mad about having to walk home in the rain anymore. He knew the cause of Gerard’s tears, but he found that he wasn’t surprised. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t mad at Frank.

Gerard oozed misery, so Mikey backed out of the room. Mikey knew it was best to leave Gerard alone when he was like this.

 

Gerard knew that Mikey had come into his room, but he also knew that Mikey would leave as soon as he noticed what was the matter.

He was thinking about what Frank had said, running the words in his mind over and over. How could I have been so stupid? And that was the moment that the realization crashed over him in jarring waves- the moment Gerard understood that, to Frank, he meant nothing. He was just an experiment- that was all he ever was going to be. Frank wasn’t who he thought he was. Frank didn’t think of others, which Gerard should have known. It was so obvious, practically slapping him in the face.

Frank disappointed Gerard. The disappointment clung to his chest heavily, and tears threatened to spill once more. Frank had seemed like a caring person.

Gerard knew that his brother never talked about him much. He knew the most Mikey ever told someone was that he was a mute and an introvert. Hell, if Gerard was Mikey he wouldn’t say much past that either. Gerard didn’t blame him- he couldn’t. He wouldn’t want to be publically friends with himself.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Gerard let out a sniffle and a series of gasps. He could feel the panic rising- the fear of being alone. Frank didn’t want him. His parents didn’t want him- they were never home. Mikey didn’t want him. No one wanted him. He was all alone.

Gerard clawed at his throat, trying to gather air into his squeezing lungs. He let the tears fall again. No one would care if they fell. No one cares about me, Gerard thought. He let himself sink down onto his bed. He stopped trying to save himself from his lack of breath. There was no need to- no one cared.

'All alone.'

His lungs burned as his body desperately tried to gain a hold of oxygen. His eyes were practically raining, dampening his hair and blanket. He was beginning to see black and yellow dots. 'Wait! What about Lindsey? Maybe I can talk to her?'

Gerard tried to get up, but he found himself falling into darkness.

 

When Gerard woke up, his room was pitch-black. He squinted, trying to find any source of light so that he could see. He was scared of his floor. He didn’t want to trip over clothes and break his nose. He really had to clean up his mess. Giving up on that, Gerard stood up slowly. He made his way towards where he knew the stairs were, only tripping four times in the process. Luckily, he didn’t break his nose or anything else.

Finally, he found the switch and flipped it up. He blinked a few times, allowing his eyes to adjust to the sudden light. He saw what he tripped over, including clothes, but his eyes landed on his sketchbook.

Angrily, he stomped towards it and picked it up. He opened to the first picture of Frank and tore it out. He crumpled it up and threw it at the wall with all of his strength, but it was paper, and it flew to the ground.

It didn’t help him release his pent up anger.

He ripped out some more, relishing in the sound of the paper tearing. He stopped and panted. His anger took the breath out of him. Then he giggled, and wondered why he thought paper could solve his problems. He looked at the floor and noticed that about half of his pictures of Frank were on the floor. He picked one up.

An idea popped into his mind.

 

Gerard took the picture he drew the previous day. It wasn’t finished quite yet, and Gerard, unfortunately, hated leaving his drawings unfinished. Even if he tore it out or threw it away, it would still bother him.

Gerard picked up his pencil up off of his bedside table and began to finish the drawing. He began to make Frank’s smooth skin angular, and he erased in the appropriate locations. He made the jack o’ lantern appear to be evil; the scorpion vicious. He erased the eye and redrew it to look vacant. Gerard was satisfied with drawing.

He closed the book, shoved it into his backpack, and stood up, stretching and yawning. He shoved the book into his backpack and looked at the time. There was no point in going back to sleep- his alarm was going to go off in about an hour.

He decided that a shower would be necessary since he hadn’t had one in a few days. The water was soothing and warm, like Frank. Except Frank was cold, too. Gerard felt tears spring to his eyes again. He let them fall. He felt as though the shower sort of cleansed him, washing Frank away.

Except Frank couldn’t be washed away.

Frank was forever etched in his mind, his brain on automatic to constantly make him aware of Frank’s presence. He knew, with a sinking feeling, that it was going to be difficult to ignore- difficult to forget about him.

Gerard shook his head to clear his thoughts, and began to lather his hair with shampoo. 'Just stop thinking, Gerard. It never does you any good. Just stop thinking. There is no Frank right now. He doesn’t matter right now. Just stop.' He ran his fingers through his hair, and rinsed it out. He saw the bubbles quickly pop and blend in with the creamy whiteness of the rest of the soap. The pouring water caused it to disperse and avoid the drain.

He couldn’t help but to giggle.

It wasn’t really funny, but it was so completely ordinary that he had to laugh. His giggles turned into a full-blown laugh. He struggled to stay standing, and he eventually sat down so he wouldn’t hurt himself. He sat under the steaming water, and waited as the laughter slowly died.

He finished washing himself after he stood up, and quickly turned the water off.

He stepped out and grabbed hold of his Doom Patrol towel and dried most of his body before stepping out of the tub. He closed his Batman curtain and scowled at it. He felt an irrational anger towards Batman in that moment before he scolded himself. 'Quit bitching, Gerard. It’s not a damn curtain’s fault. Besides, you liked Batman long before you even met Frank.'

He walked to his closet and quickly dressed, pulling on his favorite jeans and a somewhat clean shirt. It didn’t smell bad, so he thought he wore it once or twice since the last time it was washed. Then he went to the sink and gazed at the mirror.

Gerard looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot and he had huge bags under them. His lips looked soft now after the shower, but they were rapidly drying. He looked like he was heartbroken, but more of a girly heartbroken.

Sighing, he applied foundation. He didn’t want to look like he had been too troubled by Frank’s rejection- he would only get teased for it. He also didn’t want to look like he was proving something, like how some people do after a break up. He didn’t want a See-I-Can-Live-Without-You-This-Meant-Absolutely-Nothing-To-Me sign all over his face. He wanted to look how he always did. He didn’t have anything to prove.

He looked about as normal as he could get, but this time he avoided the eyeliner. His red eyes were already noticeable, but hopefully people would think he was just tired. He quickly applied deodorant, remembering to put it on for once. 'You’re a moron, Gerard.'

He yawned and went back to his bed, slipping on his hoodie and picking his backpack up. He went up to the kitchen and started the coffee maker. He opened the fridge, skimming it for something that sounded appetizing.

He was disappointed.

However, he needed a cigarette, and he disliked smoking on an empty stomach. It usually made him nauseous. So he made toast and waited for the bread to pop and the coffee machine to beep.

He made words out of the periodical element magnets. He was pleased when he made “Spock” and “Doctor Who”, then realized with a start that he was incredibly nerdy and blushed. He knew he was nerdy, but he just did that for fun.

The toaster popped and he spread the delicious fake butter over it, and then sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on top. He nibbled at it. It tasted good, but his stomach was protesting. He forced himself to eat it, though. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate. 'I think it was yesterday morning…'

The coffee machine alerted him of its presence, and Gerard held the ghost of a smile. It smelled fantastic. He set the toast down and snatched a mug, filling it with the mouthwatering liquid. Then he went outside.

His mother didn’t like him smoking indoors. She didn’t like his nasty habit, and didn’t want her house to smell like an ash tray.

He sat on the front porch. Dawn wasn’t for about half an hour and he was freezing. Lighting the cancer stick, he inhaled deeply. He held it in his lungs until they burn and he was coughing. 'I have to quit. It’s going to kill me, and it doesn’t smell all that great.'

Gerard threw the barely used cigarette onto the ground and stepped on it. He sipped his coffee, hissing as the scalding substance burned his tongue and throat. He set it down and breathed onto his rapidly-growing-cold fingers.

He went inside quickly, threw away his brand new cigarette pack, and went back to his coffee he left on the porch.

Then he watched the sunrise.

 

Frank was humming a tune happily. He felt great. Chelsea, or Casey, or Lacy, or whatever her name was, was great the previous night. She gave excellent head, and she screamed. Frank loved screamers. Frank giggled in the middle of his song, making him lose the beat.

“You look happy, dude,” Heath said, clapping him on the back. Frank stumbled. “Who did you bang this time?” He wore a shit-eating grin, his curly blonde hair falling into his blue eyes. He was muscular, unusually so for a teenager. He was almost twice the size of Frank.

“Can’t remember her name, man, but damn she was good,” Frank grinned right back, nudging Heath in the shoulder.

“Seriously, man, I think you get more action than I do, and that’s sayin’ something,” Heath laughed. They reached Frank’s locker. “Gotta go now, Mom’ll be pissed at me.”

“Bye Heath,” Frank muttered, turning the dial on his locker. He looked up briefly and watched Heath walk away. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he saw Gerard. He frowned as he saw his hunched walk, but shrugged it off. That was how Gerard normally walked.

He opened his locker and grabbed his black backpack, pulling it out. He yawned as he hauled his textbooks out, and he heard a piece of paper fall. He shoved his books in his backpack and bent down to pick up the paper, and saw that is was a note with a drawing.

Frank knew who the note was from. The scratchy handwriting was a dead giveaway. He frowned as he read what it said, confused and somehow insulted.

‘I hope you found what you were looking for.’


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Frank is not so nice in this story- I know. Originally, I was going to make him a sweetheart. Does that make it any better? After he told Gerard to shove off he was going to say that it was a mistake and blah blah blah, but I thought this would be better. What are your thoughts? I’m curious as to what themes or reoccurring things you saw throughout this. I wanted to convey a couple of things with this and I want to know if I am successful, so comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> I also hate the Epilogue for this story, because it feels like it changes the whole point of the first four parts.

It wasn’t raining.

However, it was cloudy. It was perfect for Gerard.

Gerard never liked rainy funerals. He felt that the rain never fit the mood. It was the never right amount of sadness, so he preferred the day to be cloudy. Cloudy days, especially multiple gray days, allowed for a certain kind of depression. Gerard loved cloudy days. He had always let Mikey know that he didn’t want to be buried on a rainy day, but on a cloudy one.

He got what he wanted.

It was an accident, really. Gerard didn’t see it coming, and neither did his assailant. It was foggy outside and his clothes were dark. That was a poor choice on Gerard’s part. No one could explain why he was outside at four in the morning, either.

The driver of the car was on her way home from work. She was young, maybe twenty-three. She worked at the twenty-four hour Dennys. She wasn’t driving slower than the speed limit, but still fast enough to kill someone.

Gerard was jaywalking.

He could have lived. He was critically injured, but there was still a good chance of survival. The problem wasn’t with the doctors- they were able to put him in a stable condition and he should have lived. The problem was with Gerard. He didn’t have the will to live. He welcomed the endless sleep- the endless silence. It was relaxing.

He died two days after the accident.

The woman went to the funeral. Guilt gnawed at her and she cried quietly during the ceremony. She sat by herself, sensing that she wasn’t fully welcome.

No one realized that she was Lindsey. She wasn’t recognized and she didn’t say anything. She had really liked Gerard- he was a great guy.

She kissed the flower petals and set the white rose on the casket. Her red lipstick stained the flower.

 

Frank showed up, mainly to support Mikey. He always felt awkward when someone passed away. He never knew how to behave or what words to say. He usually removed himself from his feelings.

All of the teachers showed up, as did a few close family friends. Most were crying, though a few just wore grim faces. Every single one of them held a white rose.

They listened to the preacher speak the words of the Lord and a few added about Gerard. Everyone who had something to say about Gerard spoke, moving up to him and talking to the wood.

It was a closed casket funeral.

They set their flowers down on top when they were done speaking. Some, however, didn’t say a word, but let the flower rest above his head.

 

Mikey and Frank were the last two there. They stood in front of the casket, staring ahead with their eyes unfocussed. They stood in silence for fifteen minutes until Mikey finally broke the silence.

“I used to wish that one day would come where he would no longer be nervous, no longer be afraid of people- of bullies. You should have read his stories, Frank, they were wonderful- beautifully written fantasies about a young man and his partner going off into the world, fighting beasts and falling in love. I think they were of what he dreamed would happen between him and somebody. Did you know he drew you? He did it all the time, for two years, almost.” His words were spoken quietly, but clearly. His voice was hoarse. Mikey paused for a few moments. He didn’t really want to continue, but Frank needed to hear it.

Frank stayed silent.

“After you told him what that night really meant to you, there was a change. It wasn’t an obvious one. It took mom nearly four weeks to notice. He started to eat less and draw less. I think he was afraid to- afraid of falling again. It’s hard to tell. Once mom finally did notice, she sent him to therapy. He was depressed, but he never fully got out of it. He was always depressed. Finally he started to write. He loved writing.”

Mikey paused again, this time for himself. He allowed a couple of tears to finally fall before wiping his eyes. He sniffled, and Frank spoke:

“Look, Mikey, I thought-”

“No, Frank, that’s the problem,” Mikey said, cutting him off quickly. “You don’t think.

“When I finally got my wish, I wished it wasn’t so, because then he acted dead. He was always silent when he walked, was like that before he stopped, but afterwards I would look to my left and see him sitting dead still. He would no longer tap his fingers on the couch, or bite on his nails, or grind his teeth. Sure, he went out more, but he wasn’t living. He was going through the motions. He had boyfriends, about four, but he never treated them right. He did everything a boyfriend was supposed to do, except to feel. There was a reason Gerard was nervous, it allowed him to feel. So I guess I owe you a thanks, Frank, for curing my brother of his nervousness. I got what I thought I wanted.”

Mikey put his own white rose next to the stained one. He knew who’s it was. It was that woman’s. He didn’t have the energy to be mad at her, though. He knew that the accident wasn’t her fault and that Gerard wanted to die. He placed a pack of cigarettes he fished out of the trashcan four years ago onto the casket. “Mom was glad you quit. She never said it, but she is proud of you. I’m proud of you, too, Gerard. I love you,” Mikey said quietly. He looked to the sky, smiled slightly, and left.

Frank, however, sat there for a while, just thinking about what Mikey had said. He replayed everything that had happened in that week. Gerard’s nervous demeanor and scratchy handwriting, the sex, his friendlier manner afterwards, and his crestfallen stature flooded his thoughts. He recalled how he had reacted to everything, brushing Gerard’s feelings away as if they didn’t matter because, to Frank, they didn’t matter. Gerard was just an experiment and Frank had treated him like shit. The note suddenly made sense to him. He had found what he was looking for.

Frank’s lips formed into a frown as he held the rose, the thorns prickling into his skin. He watched the drops of blood form, but he didn’t do anything. He didn’t wipe it way or stick his fingers in his mouth. He just watched.

Because for the first time in Frank’s short life, he felt guilty about what he had done to another human being.


End file.
